


Express Engines

by Trainmaster64



Category: Thomas the Tank Engine & Friends, Thomas the Tank Engine - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kindness, Sad, Trains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-22
Updated: 2011-06-22
Packaged: 2018-08-31 11:47:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8577268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trainmaster64/pseuds/Trainmaster64
Summary: Gordon is unwell and is sent to the Steamworks to be repaired. BoCo is the only engine left to take the Express, a job he hasn't been rostered to do in years. Will he be able to live up to Gordon and the Fat Controller's high expectations?





	

Gordon is one of the most powerful engines on the Fat Controller’s railway. He loves racing along the line with the wind whistling around him, as he pulls the heavy Express service from Knapford to Barrow. The train had become so heavy over the years that he was the only engine able to pull it to time.

Unfortunately, Gordon is not an unusual or special engine in his mechanics – he is a steam locomotive like any other, and as such is prone to mechanical failure like the other engines, as he found out one early morning when he tried and failed to move off-shed on his own. The mighty Pacific had found his valve gear to have jammed on him, and was unable to move freely. Gordon winced sharply in pain as he struggled, but found he could simply go no further than the edge of the turntable.

The other engines were very sympathetic – for all of Gordon’s constant boasting they didn’t like to see him suffer as he did. They watched as James, already in steam, carefully manoeuvred himself in front of Gordon to push him back into the shed. The big engine was clearly in pain, and the others couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. Each engine had a kind word for him as they left for their respective jobs – the railway didn’t stop running because of one engine’s injury or illness.

***

The Fat Controller was pacing the floor of the Steamworks, looking very perturbed. Henry had been drafted to take charge of the Express for the day, and Gordon had been transferred to the Steamworks as part of a heavy goods train running to Barrow. The workmen were carefully crawling over every inch of him, trying to find out what had happened to make his valve gear jam, with Kevin and Victor hovering around and trying to assist in any way they could.

Unfortunately, when the cause of Gordon’s problems was discovered it became apparent that the Express Engine would not be returning to service within a few days – Gordon would have to remain at the Steamworks for two weeks whilst his valve gear was completely rebuilt. Rescheduling the timetable would be difficult, as the other engines all had other work to do. Finding engines to be freed to run the service would be very difficult indeed.

There was also the issue of power. The Express had grown considerably in length and weight since its inception many years ago, and the number of engines able to run the train had diminished accordingly. James, who had once been one of the premier Express Engines, had been removed from this honour not because of his behaviour – he simply was no longer powerful enough to regularly keep to time without extreme wear. Gordon, with his immense size and strength, was one of the only engines able to keep the Express to time efficiently and somewhat easily.

This left the Fat Controller in a very awkward predicament. Timetables would need to be rearranged, and work would need to be picked up by the others as best as it could. Turning to the Railway Inspector standing near him, he put forth various ideas to see what would be the most appropriate course of action. “So the Express runs thrice a day, from Knapford to Barrow and back. The midday service is, of course, not as heavy as the peak runs, and…” 

The Fat Controller mopped his brow while the Inspector responded in the affirmative to his musings; running a railway was not an easy task at all, and anyone who thought differently was sorely mistaken.

“Now, we can have Henry freed to run the Express in the morning, after he returns from the ‘Kipper,’ and we can get… I think we can try to free up Hiro from his work on Misty Island in the evenings. Now, if we shift Stanley and Billy to Misty Island in Hiro’s absence–”

“That won’t be possible, sir; Billy is on the Kirk Ronan branch. We could try to get Charlie, though.”

“He’s busy assisting on the Little Western while Oliver is repaired.” The Fat Controller motioned to the Western tank engine on the lift, undergoing rebuilding. “Bother. We can’t leave Stanley out there on his own. We may need to bring in Paxton or Sidney to assist – goodness knows what they would do, but…”

“I think that’s the best solution at this time, sir. What about the midday Express, sir?”

The Fat Controller was stumped; he hadn’t thought of the midday Express service. Henry and Hiro were the best engines, and were both busy during the midday operations. “What engines are available to run?”

The Inspector consulted his rosters. “No Type 4 or Type 3 engines, I’m afraid. I do see that we have one Type 2 that could be spared, presuming it would be acceptable, sir.”

“I don’t like to overtax my engines like this, you know. I don’t even let James pull the service on a regular basis anymore – he can’t do it.”

“It would be the midday service, sir, and that is the lightest Express service offered. The engine I have is capable of working that service fairly comfortably, I feel – if you don’t mind my opinion, sir.”

“Not at all. I trust your judgment in its fullest – that’s why I offered you the job. Now, which Type 2 is listed? Not James?”

“No, sir.”

“Or Edward?”

“Busy, sir.”

“Bother. Well, which engine is it, then?”

***

“Tell me again what’s going on, old friend. Why are you leaving us?”

BoCo sighed. It had been a long day on the Wellsworth branch, and he was trying to be patient – unfortunately, the trucks had robbed him of that privilege. “I told you, Edward. The Fat Controller wants me to pull the midday Express from Knapford to Barrow and back. Gordon damaged his valve gear and will be at the works, and so he needs me to fill in. Henry and Hiro will take the other turns, but since I’m not as powerful I’ll be working the lightest of the three runs.”

“I understood all that,” Edward said. “What I don’t understand is why you’re to be transferred to Tidmouth if you’re only to be working one service a day.”

“The Fat Controller would rather have me at Tidmouth to be available for the Express, and not running back and forth light engine all day. He’s sending another engine in to cover for me… do try to keep the twins from destroying him, won’t you?” BoCo quickly forced a grin on his face and winked as Edward chuckled immoderately. With a hoot that he hoped sounded confident, he rolled carefully off to Tidmouth with a connecting train, leaving Edward to get the twins in line before their visitor arrived.

Edward sighed. He was worrying about his friend as he watched his retreating figure. He knew that BoCo was a capable engine, but wasn’t sure how good he would be with the Express. It had been many years since a Type 2 had taken the train, and Edward knew BoCo’s strength and limitations well – after working with him for many years, he knew many things about his friend.

He simply hoped that his friend hadn’t been forced into doing something more than he was capable of.

***

BoCo settled into Tidmouth nicely, and soon made good company with the other engines. James and Henry put in good words for him, and soon the sheds were filled with laughter as BoCo regaled his audience with tales of Bill and Ben’s mischief and misdeeds through the years.

After a few hours, however, the Fat Controller arrived to give the three Express Engines some last-minute instructions before the engines went to sleep and the morning’s services began the next day. “Right, now. Hiro and Henry, you both know how to run the Express, so I trust you to do your best. I expect nothing less from either of you. Keep to time and don’t be late.”

“Of course, sir. We will do our very best.” Hiro was older and wise, but was still a very powerful engine and determined to make his runs count. Henry said the same.

BoCo, however, was slightly worried – he had never taken the Express before, only pulling some of the slower passenger runs and stopping trains before being shifted to Edward’s branch. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was beginning to feel slightly intimidated by the other engines’ collective experience.

The Fat Controller, however, was completely unaware, due in part to BoCo’s smooth façade he presented to him when he was addressed next and partly to his own hurry to return home to a kipper dinner with his wife. “BoCo, you will take the midday run. This is your first time with the Express so don’t try to break any records at first – concentrate on doing the job well. I expect your best and I know you’ll give it to me – you haven’t disappointed me once before. Do well. Good luck tomorrow, all of you.”

BoCo pasted a smile upon his face as, like the others, he bade the Fat Controller good evening. If the others had noticed anything unusual about the diesel’s attitude they were careful not to say anything or do anything to hurt BoCo’s confidence.

***

The next morning, BoCo idled in the yards, awaiting his turn on the Express. Henry had returned from his runs thoroughly exhausted – after taking the Flying Kipper beforehand he had been worn out, and was looking forward to a nice long rest. Unfortunately, this meant he hadn’t had the energy to chat about his turn on the Express, which BoCo desperately longed for.

In truth, BoCo was very nervous. He hadn’t pulled such a train in years and was a bit rusty with such services. He generally took the trucks on the branch line – everyone enjoyed travelling behind a steam locomotive, and the trucks had quickly learned not to play tricks on BoCo.

“Good luck, BoCo! You’ll do fine!” The other engines called to him as they left for their daily tasks. While BoCo appreciated such comments, and replied in kind, he couldn’t help but worry – what if he should fail? What would happen to him if he were to fail, to break down or fall off time so badly that it could never be made up? What would everyone say?

They would say that he was unreliable, and unfit for such service. His reputation with the others would be tarnished forever. BoCo would never again be able to work alongside such engines.

All too soon it was time for BoCo to prepare for the journey. With not a small bit of worry, he eased himself to the filling station and topped off his tanks with fuel for the journey. Running out of fuel would be disastrous – grimly, he remembered how the Express had once before stopped prematurely due to a lack of water on the part of the steam engine in charge at the time, and resolved never to let that happen to him. Once topped up, he made his way over the points to the bustling station hub of Knapford.

BoCo carefully backed down onto the Express, examining the train warily. There were seven carriages coupled today, all of which were to be filled with busy commuters travelling from Knapford to Barrow, and then on to London. These carriages were all polished to perfection and sparkling in the sun, awaiting their journey.

The guard blew his whistle and waved his flag; BoCo cautiously and smoothly rolled out of the station, leaving nothing but a thin blue cloud of smog over the station as he proceeded onto the open line.

***

BoCo soon found that he needn’t have worried as he did – he was doing surprisingly well. The train was running very smoothly and keeping to time, and the coaches were singing his praises behind him.

“Surely,” he said to himself, “this is the only way to work. To think I was worried – what a lark!”

The diesel was really enjoying himself for the first time. Stations and signals flew past as he made good speed, paving the way for him to sail through. He hooted as he passed Wellsworth, leaving Edward feeling much better about his friend than he had been before.

“No need to bank him up the hill, then… he’s got it already.” Edward was pleased for his friend.

The wind whistled past BoCo as he accelerated down Gordon’s Hill. For a brief period, he felt himself crest ninety miles per hour, and hooted across the Sudrian landscape his triumph and power over the dominion – no wonder Gordon felt so pompous at times; this was a wonderful, magnificent feeling that simply could not be described. This was perfect.

All too soon, the final approach to Barrow was ahead. BoCo was passing through Vicarstown, nearly at the bridge and the end of his perfect run-

CRACK.

The train was going slower and slower. BoCo slipped and strained as he desperately tried to keep the train moving at speed, with no success. “What’s happened? I feel so weak,” he groaned wearily.

“You’ve damaged something in your engine, old boy,” his driver said knowingly. “It must have been the excess strain on your system. You simply weren’t built for such work. Never mind; we’ll have you sorted again soon.”

But BoCo was not paying any attention to him. He was lost in his own thoughts and shame, as he was towed back to Vicarstown, not noticing when he was quickly mended enough to return home ‘light engine,’ nor the sights passing by as he rumbled slowly home.

He was thinking about his driver’s innocent words, which played havoc on his mind. ‘You simply weren’t built for such work.’ It was true; he wasn’t built for such work, and now everyone could see it for themselves. He had no right to be called an Express engine; he was a charlatan who had fooled everyone… except himself. He had failed.

***

BoCo was sulking in the sheds, feeling miserable. His first run had been a complete disaster, as he had predicted. The diesel was simply not good enough to be a proper engine any longer. The only saving grace he could see was that he would soon be returning to the Wellsworth line in a few weeks – although that happy time couldn’t come soon enough for him.

A sharp whistle came from the distance, foreign sounding and deep-toned. “Hullo, Hiro,” BoCo called to the Japanese engine. Obviously the final Express run of the day had been completed, and now Hiro was returning to the sheds to rest. The others hadn’t arrived back yet – the sheds were empty save for the two engines, steam and diesel united.

“Hallo, my friend. I am glad to be home; it has been a very long day indeed. I have not done such work in a long time.”

“Really?” BoCo was surprised, but then thought about it. Hiro hadn’t been on Express runs for a long time… as a matter of fact, BoCo was having difficulty remembering exactly when Hiro had ever pulled the Express. “How long has it been, then?”

“Oh, about thirty years, I think. Wait… yes, about that time. I was running a main-line Express service when I broke down. I was having problems with my boiler tubes and needed an overhaul. No one had the money at that time to repair me, so I had to keep working.” Here the old engine paused, remembering his painful past before continuing: “After I was brought home I was told that there was no money to mend me. They put me in the sidings, and…”

Hiro didn’t say anymore; both engines knew exactly what had happened next. BoCo was shocked; he hadn’t thought that Hiro had taken such a hiatus from running the Express. Due to his size and strength, BoCo had always assumed that he had been running the services. He had never seen the engine pulling the train that closely, always working with and paying attention to the trains on his branch line.

“I never knew, Hiro.”

“Everyone assumed I was so capable of taking the Express today, because I am such a powerful engine. Do you know, I was nearly late coming back home? I had to work very hard to make up the time.” Hiro glanced sharply at BoCo before speaking: “You were nervous before you started your run today. What you did not realize is that we all were nervous too. We all try to live up to Gordon, and we worry about being as good as he is. You are not alone.”

BoCo flushed with embarrassment; he felt incredibly foolish for not speaking up sooner. “Thanks, Hiro. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you enough to tell you how I felt.”

“Did you not trust us, BoCo? Or did you not trust yourself? You did well until you broke down, and that can happen to anyone. Look at Gordon.”

It took BoCo a moment to understand exactly what Hiro had meant, but once he did he felt a great burden being lifted off of himself. “Thanks, Hiro. I needed that.”

“I know, my friend. I did too. Now let’s rest and get ready for our work tomorrow. We have a busy day ahead of us.”

And with that, the two engines fell asleep, BoCo feeling much better than he had been before. He no longer blamed himself; he was still really useful. His next run and his runs for the rest of the month would prove it, he decided, before he drifted off into a content slumber.


End file.
